


More Than A Gift

by jozka



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gift Giving, M/M, komori has a crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jozka/pseuds/jozka
Summary: “You don’t actually have to get him anything, no one is forcing you to.”But Motoya wants to, that’s the whole problem. He wants to get Suna a gift, and a really good one at that.or Komori has a Christmas gift crisis: the fic
Relationships: Komori Motoya/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 12
Kudos: 100
Collections: Bonk Secret Santa





	More Than A Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zora (nico_neo)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nico_neo/gifts).



> merry christmas charlie! i hope you like your gift:)

Komori Motoya has made an earth-shattering discovery. Probably the most important discovery since NASA found out there is water on Mars (he can’t tell you when they did that though, because Motoya is a volleyball idiot and he doesn’t keep up with current events). Anyway, the point is that he’s made a discovery, and an important one at that.

Apparently, his dear friend and teammate Suna Rintarou hasn’t received a Christmas gift in five years time. He lets it slip in passing, when Motoya mentions the itchy sweaters his grandmother still gifts to him and Kiyoomi every year. Suna has gone five whole years without receiving any Christmas gifts, Motoya has never heard anything more tragic. 

He doesn’t know why, but something about the fact that it’s Suna, specifically, just makes it extra sad. Suna is very worthy of gifts. Motoya thinks there should be a national day dedicated to giving gifts to Suna —like a birthday, but without the birth.

“Why are you so worked up over this?” Washio asks when Motoya relays this information to him. They’re the last ones in the locker room and Washio does not react with the deserved outrage this discovery warrants. “The only gifts I get are fancy seasonally scented soap from Konoha and a gift card from Bokuto and Akaashi.”

“See, you’re proving my point,” Motoya says, ”it’s capitalism's favorite holiday, everyone should get at least one gift!” 

“But Suna hates capitalism, he has a keychain of Karl Marx on his gym bag.”

That is true, Motoya has seen it and it’s very ugly. He thinks it was some sort of a joke gift from Suna’s Inarizaki days, he has a faint memory of someone mentioning it was, but he’s too afraid to ask for confirmation.

“I’m gonna turn Suna into capitalism’s bitch,” Motoya declares.

“Good luck with that,” Washio says and leaves.

—

Motoya doesn’t do things half-assed, that’s not the way to go if you want to climb your way up in life. That’s not to say he never takes it easy, because he does that too —it’s all about the balance. But when it comes to gifts, it has to be perfect. It needs to serve some kind of function (no one wants an item that will just sit there and collect dust) but also be something that the recipient wouldn’t get for themselves (toilet paper, for instance, is very useful but a very bad gift.) 

Motoya needs to get Suna something he can use, would like, but wouldn’t buy himself. That’s all easy enough to figure out, but what that item in question would be, is not.

Luckily, there is an age old and very useful motto in the Komori family that goes, “when in doubt, consult a Sakusa,” that Motoya swears by. The Sakusa in question ends up being Kiyoomi more often than not, and in this particular situation Motoya doesn’t think his aunt or uncle would be much help, so Kiyoomi it is. 

“Hello?” Kiyoomi says on the other side of the phone, sounding surprised to receive a call in the middle of the day from his favorite cousin.

“Is that the way you greet your favorite person?” Motoya asks, only mildly offended.

“You’re not Hinata Shouyou.”

“Haha very funny, so listen I need a small favor.”

“Define small,” Kiyoomi says and Motoya can imagine him doing air-quotes around the word ‘small’, except Kiyoomi isn’t a person who does air-quotes, and his hands are probably stuffed in his pockets.

“It’s really small and simple,”Motoya reassures him, “I just need you to ask Miya, your teammate, what Suna, my teammate, would like for Christmas.”

“I’m not doing that,” Kiyoomi says with a tone of finality in his voice.

“Not even after everything I’ve done for you? A lifetime of friendship and favors and mutual trust and—“

“Remember when you put a worm in my water bottle?”

“We were eight and it was hilarious!”

Kiyoomi hangs up, Motoya is back on square one.

—

TikTok is a very dangerous app, you open it by mistake and then suddenly two hours have passed and you’re deep into the plant side of it. A month later you have five avocado plants growing in your already cluttered apartment and all your teammates are begging you to stop sending TikTok links in the team group chat. 

Maybe this isn’t as universal of an experience as Motoya would like to think it is, but it’s his reality. TikTok is dangerous, but it’s also very useful, filled with tips and tricks on how to do all various things, like picking locks for example.

“What are you doing?” Washio asks one afternoon when Motoya is sitting on the floor in front of Suna’s locker with bobby pins scattered all around him. He thought everyone else had gone home, but it seems he miscalculated.

“Nothing,” he answers, putting on his most innocent looking face.

“Are those bobby pins?”

“Yes, very useful for hair stuff, you know?”

Washio just sighs and leaves. 

Thirty minutes and multiple failed attempts later Motoya gives up and leaves as well. It seems like he won’t get any clues from Suna’s possessions today.

The next day there’s a shiny new code lock hanging from Suna’s locker. It’s one of the fancy ones with a five number combination.

Motoya is never trusting TikTok or Washio ever again.

__

Although his cousin proved to be pretty useless before, there is one thing Kiyoomi can do for him, and that is getting tickets to a MSBY game. And not just any MSBY game, but the one against the Falcons. At this game, there won’t just be one, but a whole three Inarizaki alumni present to squeeze information from.

Miya Atsumu and Ojiro Aran might be unavailable while on the court, but Miya Osamu is not. When the rest of the audience is fully immersed in the game and too busy to go buy food is the ideal time to strike and so Motoya bides his time. He waits for the game to be in full swing before leaving his seat and sneaking down to the food stands. 

His first victim of the day is also the one he believes to be the most helpful. Miya Osamu is not a fully fledged volleyball idiot (despite being closely related to one) which means his horizons expand much further than the others. Probably, maybe. Motoya is not sure about that one actually, but he’s got a lot of faith in Osamu.

“Hello, what can I get for you today?” Osamu says when it’s Motoya’s turn to order. The queue hadn’t been very long, but the waiting had taken enough time for Motoya to read the small menu plaque standing beside the register and decide on which dish he wants to try. 

“Can I get the spicy tuna onigiri and all the dirt you have on Suna Rintarou, please?” Motoya asks, very politely.

Osamu looks taken aback, which sure, that is a valid reaction, Motoya will give him that.

He decides to be a bit more helpful, submitting a bit of context. “I’m his teammate, and I’m getting him a christmas gift but I need help.”

Osamu looks at him for a couple of seconds before his eyes widen in recognition. Motoya can practically see a little cartoon lightbulb manifest itself on top of his head.

“Ah, Komori, right?” Osamu asks, though he seems to already know the answer.

“The one and only.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Osamu says, “because I happen to know the best gift for all occasions.”

Motoya can’t help but think that yes, he is actually lucky. Both because Osamu actually happened to be helpful but also because no one has yet to come stand behind him in line, so he doesn’t feel too bad about taking Osamu’s time away from his business.

Osamu dips down behind the counter and from the sounds of it he’s rummaging through a drawer. When he emerges again he’s holding a sleek black card with his business logo on it.

“Miya Onigiri gift cards, you can never go wrong with that.” 

Okay, so maybe Motoya spoke too soon. Maybe he had too high hopes for Miya Osamu, non-volleyball idiot. Maybe he ends up buying a gift card for his mother because the food really is delicious and maybe he’s now back on square one.

But damn the ones who fold, he’s still got Ojiro Aran, and Ojiro Aran has never let him down. The fact that he’s never actually interacted with Ojiro Aran before is a minor, unimportant detail you can gloss over. If no one’s got him, Ojiro Aran’s got him.

“Sorry man, I haven’t spoken to Suna in months actually. But uh, maybe try a gift card?” 

Ojiro Aran has, in fact, not got him.

“Ew, why would you spend money on Suna?”

Miya Atsumu has got him even less.

—

Two weeks before Christmas Eve, when Motoya is close to giving up this whole mission, Washio makes several points.

“Why don’t you just talk to Suna? Ask him if there’s anything he wants?”

“I can’t ask him what he wants for Christmas, I’m not a mall Santa!” 

Though the image that pops up in Motoya’s head of him dressed as Santa and Suna in his lap is not entirely unpleasant.

“You don’t have to ask him outright,” Washio says, “just do it casually, imbed it into a conversation.”

“But then I’d have to talk to him, and things have been pretty awkward since you told him I tried to break into his locker. Thanks for that by the way, very nice.”

“You literally tried to break into his locker, Komori, what was I supposed to do? Let you steal his stinky socks in peace?”

“Yeah!” Motoya exclaims, “you can't just tell people their teammates try to break into their lockers, then they’ll think they’re creeps!”

“But you did do that,” Washio points out, again.

“And that’s totally besides the point! But speaking of stinky socks, do you think he’d appreciate socks as a gift?” Motoya says, trying to change the conversation topic.

“No one appreciates socks as gifts, I can assure you that so just go apologize and talk to him.”

Motoya sighs, he knows Washio is right, but it hurts to admit.

—

Suna Rintarou is not a materialistic man. He needs something useful, but not useful enough that it’s so essential to living that he already owns it. He needs something like a waffle iron, or a smoothie blender, except way less expensive than that and a bit more personal. Motoya has no idea if Suna even likes waffles, and as he ponders over that for a second his inner voice suddenly starts to sound a bit like Washio.

“Just go apologize and talk to him,” Motoya’s inner Washio says.

It’s the second to last practice before Christmas, it’s now or never.

Suna is talking to their captain with a water bottle in his hand and a towel slung over one of his shoulders. If Motoya hadn’t paid extensive attention to Suna all year, he’d think the man looked incredibly bored with the conversation, but as it is, that is just Suna’s default expression. He thinks he looks a bit like a runway model, they always look like they’d want to be anyway but on the catwalk even if they’re having the time of their life.

“Hey Suna,” Motoya says to get his attention. When he’s got it and Suna looks over, he continues, “do you like waffles?”

Suna, as well as their captain who overheard the question, both raise their eyebrows.

“Not particularly,” Suna replies, still looking at Motoya questioningly, “but I can't say I dislike them either.”

Waffle iron is definitely out then, joining the socks on the no-go list. Damn.

“I see… That’s a shame, personally I very much enjoy them.”

Suna walks over to Motoya and squints his eyes a bit as if he’s trying to figure something out. 

“Are you planning something?” Suna asks.

“No, what would I be planning?”

Suna shrugs, “I don’t know, breaking and entering maybe?”

Motoya laughs, it comes out a bit too fake sounding for his liking. “That was one time, and long ago now.”

“It was barely a month ago, and I still haven’t gotten an explanation.”

“Would you believe me if I said I was just curious about what the rest of the team keep in their lockers?” Motoya asks.

“I don’t know, that depends on if that was the actual reason you did it or not.”

Damn, Suna is perceptive. Of course Motoya already knew that, one of the reasons he likes Suna is because he keeps people on their toes, but now that it’s directed towards him he feels how annoying it can be.

“Sure, it was that,” Motoya decides, “I’m sorry, curiosity just got the better of me but if it makes you feel better I planned on breaking into every locker, not just yours.”

Suna looks at him like he doesn’t believe a single word he says, which he shouldn’t since Motoya is very much lying to his face. He lets it go though, sighing and accepting his apology before it’s time to gather with the team for a briefing.

—

Since talking to Suna didn’t go very well either, and Motoya is running out of options, he decides to take a page out of the book of youth. Except the youth doesn’t read books anymore, they read Instagram captions, so that’s what Motoya is doing. He’s lounging on his couch and going through Suna’s Instagram feed like he’s a fourteen year old with a crush, getting a mini heart attack every time he thinks he accidentally liked an old photo.

For an athlete, Suna has a great Instagram feed. Most of the volleyball players Motoya follows only post pictures from games or screenshots of articles or match info. Boring stuff to promote their job, with the occasional selfie or blurry food picture sprinkle in. Suna’s Instagram isn’t like that at all. It’s meticulously planned, with the perfect ratio of gorgeous close up pictures and selfies, outfit pictures, and scenery. All photos have the same filter and follow the same color scheme —a muted blue that allows him to post pictures in his EJP uniform without ruining the aesthetic.

Suna is also good at writing captions, it’s not just informative, like Ushijima’s captions tend to be, or a string of indecipherable emojis like in Hinata’s. Suna’s captions are short and precise, and even kind of witty sometimes. They tell Motoya that although Suna isn’t the type to laugh hysterically at a stupid dad-joke, he does have a sense of humor. 

Motoya contemplates giving him clothes, because Suna seems to enjoy fashion quite a bit. But there’s the problem of Motoya’s fashion knowledge being very minimal, not stretching beyond “do not leave the house with holes in your shirt, you’ll catch pneumonia and die.” He also doesn’t know Suna’s size, though surely it can’t be much bigger than his own.

But no, clothes are stupid, and gift cards to clothes stores are even more stupid.

The next thing Motoya finds frequently on Suna’s instagram is landscape and architecture. He seems to enjoy taking pictures of buildings, nature and the city atmosphere. The pictures are nice, Suna clearly has experience with photography, unlike Motoya who feels like an eighty year old man holding a phone for the first time every time he tries to snap a picture.

So maybe that’s it, maybe he should get Suna something photography related, like a camera or a tripod or a custom made selfie-stick with a cute pattern. Maybe some cartoon dogs, if Suna even likes dogs. What if he’s a cat person? That would be terrible, and not because Motoya has anything against cats, really, he just very much prefers dogs. 

Maybe he could get Suna a polaroid, if that isn’t too much 2014 wannabe hipster.

Motoya throws his phone away in frustration, it bounces on the couch cushions before falling to the floor and landing on his very fluffy mat he sometimes passes out on when he comes home too tired or drunk.

Stupid Suna.

Stupid, stupid Suna, who never gets Christmas gifts. Why couldn’t he just get gifts from someone else? Why does Motoya have to do everything himself?

“Well,” inner Washio says, because he’s still there. “You don’t actually have to get him anything, no one is forcing you to.”

But Motoya wants to, that’s the whole problem. He wants to get Suna a gift, and a really good one at that. He wants to impress Suna, wants him to weep tears of joy and pull Motoya into a hug and for them to ride off into the sunset together. Okay maybe not that last one, because Motoya doesn’t know how to ride a horse, or a motorbike, or anything cool really. But they could metaphorically ride off into the sunset together, on a metaphorical white steed. Anyway, the point is that he wants Suna to like his gift, and be happy. He just wants to make Suna happy. On the rare occasions that Suna smiles (and we’re talking real smiles, not the taunting ones) it’s like the whole room lights up and angels sing and all that crap. Motoya loves to see Suna smile, because it makes him really happy too. 

He picks up his phone from the floor, it’s a bit dusty (he’s been meaning to vacuum for a week now) so he wipes it off with his shirt sleeve before opening google. He searches for electronic stores in his near vicinity and gets to work.

—

The day has come. The last practice before Christmas, Motoya’s one and only chance to impress Suna with his gift-giving abilities. 

He’s nervous. He didn’t think he would be when he first got the idea of giving Suna a gift, but he is. The truth is that Motoya actually hasn’t put this much thought into any other gift he’s ever given. Hell, he's giving his mother a gift card to Onigiri Miya. Birthdays and holidays are less exciting as you grow older —that’s just the way of life— and in turn, as are the gifts. Toys turn into envelopes of money which then turn into “drinks are on me tonight.” None of Motoya’s friends have gone out of their way to get him something special in years, which is fine because he hasn’t done that for them either. But something about the fact that Suna hasn’t gotten anything at all really stuck with Motoya. Or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s Suna. 

If he’s going to be honest with himself, Motoya has to admit that he’s maybe, maybe, got the teeniest tiniest crush on his teammate. It’s minuscule, but it’s there. And it might have played a small part in this Christmas gift shit-show. 

Practice goes well, Motoya manages to keep his inner panic on the inside where it belongs and praises himself on his incredible acting skills. Maybe that’s a possible career should he be forced into early retirement from volleyball, who knows? 

Washio is the only teammate who’s in on Motoya’s plans, and as such he’s also been tasked with making sure Suna doesn’t leave the building until everyone else has. Washio has asked Motoya why it was important that he got Suna alone, to which Motoya replied that there was no way he was giving Suna a christmas gift in front of ten other guys to laugh at him. Maybe that’s a very high school way of thinking, but men never really grow up. 

Motoya waves off teammate after teammate, wishing them a merry Christmas and happy new year while Washio chats with Suna. It’s a good thing that Washio is good at small-talk, or maybe him and Suna are just good friends. Motoya doesn’t really reflect on the relationships his teammates have with each other, he just focuses on the ones he has with them, but maybe he should. He really wouldn’t say he’s a selfish person, but maybe he cares a bit too much about how he himself comes off to others instead of actually caring about the others. If he were to psychoanalyze himself he’d say that started when he befriended Kiyoomi and had to start showing people that at least one of them is polite and capable of social interactions. 

After the last straggler hits the showers, Motoya pulls out the plastic bag where he put Suna’s gift and walks up to him and Washio, who wishes them happy holidays before taking his leave.

“So,” Suna says, dragging it out longer than necessary, “care to elaborate on why you planned to get me alone in here?”

Damn. Suna Rintarou, what a big brained man.

“I… Well,” Motoya has trouble finding his words. He didn’t practice this part, he didn’t think giving a Christmas gift was something that needed practicing, he’s done it lots of times before. 

Instead of continuing making a fool of himself, Motoya simply brings the neatly wrapped gift out of his plastic bag and hands it over. 

It’s a small, rectangular box wrapped in white paper with a golden snowflake print on it. It’s tied together with a golden string that Motoya used a scissor to curl, something he saw on TikTok. It’s the most carefully wrapped gift he’s ever given, and Suna holds it in his hands like it’s a ticking bomb.

“Is this for me?” Suna asks, even though the little label on the gift clearly states that it is. Maybe Suna isn’t that big brained after all.

“Yeah and I’m sorry if it’s shit, I had no idea what to get you,” Motoya says as Suna starts to pull at the golden string. He unwraps the gift almost as carefully as Motoya wrapped it, making sure not to rip the paper, even though there is no point in saving it.

“Merry Christmas.”

In his hands, Suna holds a disposable camera. A Fujifilm Quicksnap something something that the employee told Motoya was the best one they had in store. He has the receipt in his wallet, should Suna end up not liking it. But judging by how he’s looking at the camera, and then up at Motoya, it seems like that is not the case.

“You got me a disposable camera,” Suna simply states. “Why?”

“Look, I had a really hard time coming up with a gift, you’re kind of a private guy, do you know that? I tried asking your friends but they were useless and I couldn’t break into your locker to snoop.” Motoya is rambling, Suna looks at him in amusement. “Your Instagram feed is pretty so I figured you might like photography but I can’t afford fancy camera shit so I’m sorry if this is really dumb—”

Motoya is cut off by a hand on his shoulder. Suna’s hand. Suna put his hand on Motoya’s shoulder and suddenly he forgot how to form words.

“Thank you,” Suna says. “I love it, actually.”

“You do?”

“Yes, your stalking led to the right conclusion, I like photography,” Suna admits. “I’ve never used a disposable camera before but I have thought of getting one, so thank you.”

Motoya can’t believe this, after all the trouble he went through to find a good gift, he actually pulled it off in the end. 

“You still didn’t answer the why, though,” Suna says, looking at Motoya like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

Motoya shrugs, the motion makes Suna’s hand slip from his shoulder, trailing lightly over his arm before falling off completely. The loss of contact makes Motoya’s shoulder feel cold and empty. “I wanted to.”

“I didn’t get you anything, didn’t even think of it.”

“That’s okay, I didn’t expect you to.”

Suna looks like he’s having a very hard time wrapping his mind around this. His brows are slightly furrowed and his lips are pressed together. Motoya would laugh at his concentrated expression if he wasn’t on the receiving end of it. Suna is often very quick at figuring things out, like before when he knew Motoya and Washio had come up with a scheme to get him alone. 

Suddenly the silence between them is hard to bear. Motoya is a very talkative person, almost sociable to a fault. Suna might come off as the opposite, but Motoya knows that when he’s comfortable, he can’t seem to shut up. He likes commenting on stuff, making observations out loud with a quick jab thrown in here and there. That’s yet another reason why Motoya likes him. 

“You got me a Christmas gift, one that you went through a lot of trouble for, just because you wanted to?” Suna asks, as if he really needs the clarification.

“Yes,” Motoya nods.

“Is there a reason that you wanted to?” 

Ah, there it is, the prodding. 

“You mentioned you hadn’t gotten a christmas gift in a couple of years, so I thought you deserved one.” 

“Just that? No other reason?” Suna asks. He has a gleam in his eyes, a teasing one that Motoya would dislike if he didn’t like everything about Suna. A shame, really. “You know Christmas is regarded as a couples holiday and it looks like you didn’t get any other teammate a gift. A bit suspicious, if you ask me.”

If Motoya was religious he’d curse Suna to the Gods. But he isn’t, so he kind of wants to kick him on the shin instead, hard enough to bruise.

“You know what, Suna? I just really wanted to get you a gift, interpret that however you want to,” Motoya plans for that to be the end of it, turning to gather his things he’d thrown on the bench and then going to the showers. Suna has other plans, catching his wrist and urging him to turn back so he’s facing him again. 

“If I can interpret it however I want to,” Suna starts, mimicking Motoya’s words, “then I’d interpret it as you liking me, romantically speaking.” 

“Well that was blunt.”

Suna shrugs. “No point in beating around the bush.”

Out of all the outcomes Motoya imagined, this certainly wasn’t one.

“So, say that that is the case. Hypothetically speaking. What would you say to that?” 

Suna grins and Motoya can’t tell if it’s genuine or taunting, it’s just big.

“If that is the case, I’d say take me out on a date then. Take me to a place with nice scenery so I can get some use out of my new camera,” Suna waves the box in his face and Motoya decides that his grin is actually both. He’s a tricky little fucker, but two can play this game.

“Only if you pay, you didn’t get me a Christmas gift after all.”

Suna gives him the most deadpan expression he can muster, it only lasts for three seconds before he cracks.

“Shouldn’t you say something romantic like ‘all I want for Christmas is you?’”

“Nah, I want a hot chocolate at least.”

Suna snorts, it’s an ugly sound. Motoya thinks he’d like to hear it more often, like every day maybe. 

“Come on then,” he says and takes Suna’s hand. “We have to hurry before all the good cafés get crowded.”

“What about the scenery? You got me a camera so good scenery is crucial.”

Motoya smiles at him, trying to look sweet and innocent. “You’ll have me in front of you, that’s all the scenery you need.”

“I liked it better when you were a nervous mess,” Suna grumbles. Motoya laughs at him and takes his hand, leading him off towards the changing room.

When they exit the building and head for the nearest bus stop, Motoya thinks that maybe Suna is right, maybe all he needs for Christmas is him.


End file.
